It was just one article. But, overnight my wife went from nameless to celebrated.The reporter was clearly working the woman angle since she made Kelly...sound like a cross between the Scarlett Pimpernel and Boudica Warrior Queen of the Icini. The article explained at great length how she rights-wrongs and uplifts the downtrodden. It was fucking embarrassing.I said, trying to keep the snicker out of my voice, “I see you’ve developed a fan club. At least the picture makes you look hot.”Kelly. Mark smiled at her. “How’s it going?”“Oh, I’m okay. I just took another shower. Emily is out like a light. It’s very impressive. I promised to wake her at4:30.” She smiled at him. “I saw you managed some sleep too.”Mark turned and stared at a clock. “Wow, almost3 AM. Yeah, I guess I did. I was having the strangest dream ... Hard to remember now...” He looked up at Jada. “You’re really okay? Is there anything I can do?”“Well, actually, if you don’t mind ... Could you scoot over? Could we lie. A testament to both her untempered sexuality after all these years, as well as her illicit feelings for me, her only son. Clearly a case of nurturing motherly love entangled with lustful, uninhibited desires.Caught up in the moment, I hadn’t noticed, but as I was contemplating the erotic images before me, I too had begun to weep ... my twitching tool sending drop after drop of my own copious precum down to the carpet below. I smiled at the thought of our flesh crying together across time and. From what I had heard about her, she was dating a senior of mine and had few flings on the side. Our tickets got confirmed last minute, and nature played some wicked game and we got seats in the same bogie as she was in. Me, my friend and she met in the train near the washroom. It was my philosophy not to judge anyone based on rumours. We all talked for hours and hours and it was a fun chat. I went to sleep that night like any other night.On going home, we became friends on social media and.